


Atop the World Tree

by ezpzlemon



Category: Hunter X Hunter
Genre: Character Study?, Existential Angst, Gen, and regular angst too I guess, i dunno, summary is a quote from chapter 345
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-24
Updated: 2018-03-24
Packaged: 2019-04-07 05:00:11
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 794
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14073405
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ezpzlemon/pseuds/ezpzlemon
Summary: Reproachful, Mito rids herself of the strawberry with a single gulp. “Yeah, Ging was never cut out to be a dad. Nor has he ever been willing to try!”“Like father, like son, I suppose,” Gon replies, smiling as easily as he ever had. “Maybe I wasn’t cut out to be a son.”





	Atop the World Tree

**Author's Note:**

> this is obviously unfinished, but I'm probably not gonna work on it again, so here ya go

**Nihilism:** Believing in nothing.  
**Solipsism:** Believing in nothing but yourself.

 

* * *

 

“Miss Mito’s still angry at you, y’know.”

Atop the world tree, the air is cold and thin, ceaselessly touched by a westerly wind. The horizon before them bows to planet Earth’s immaculate curve, and the sun above is torn free from the sky like a flare at the peak of its climb. In the back of Gon’s mind, it occurs to him, then, that it’s always daytime in outer space.

“Oh, I’m well aware,” Ging laughs. “My baby cousin never really did grow up—always getting upset, throwing fits, holding grudges; you know what I mean. But in truth, what she resents the most isn’t that I left the island or wanted the old lady to babysit you, although those two things also set her off. I’m sure you’ve never heard her be totally honest about her feelings.”

Intrigued, Gon cocks his head. “What does she resent the most, then?”

“That I didn’t take her with me,” Ging answers, smiling down at the blue void of the world. “For as long as I live, I don’t think she’ll ever forgive me for that.”

He considers it for a moment and then agrees: Mito is more than stubborn enough to take this to the grave. One look at Ging’s face is enough to tell that he’s not at all bothered by his estrangement, but that doesn’t stop Gon from offering his condolences. “I’m sorry things turned out that way.”

“Save your pity for someone who needs it,” Ging flatly replies. “Both me and her are fine without.”

Gon reads between the lines: _We’re both tough people._

Amusement dogging his smile, now, the man leans back on his elbows. “And on the topic of Mito, did you know that the biggest reason she fought for your custody was because she thought it might hurt me? ‘Take that, Ging: your kid isn’t yours anymore!’—and so forth. She sure did her homework, too, acting as her own attorney and everything. Hell, she even forged a foreign birth certificate so our courtroom could be overseas, since I might’ve been unfairly favored by the one on Whale Island. Halfway through her presenting the case, I was like, ‘Just take the damn kid, already.’”

“Wow…”

“Then, after the papers got signed, she said to me with this huge blush, ‘I’ll let you visit him sometimes if you come back to the island,’ even though she was still mad at me for a million other things. Bribing me to return was the other reason Mito wanted you, by the way. Almost none of it was truly because of my ‘negligent’ parenting.”

“And what did you say to her?” Gon asks, enjoying the insight on his background.

“That I never planned on visiting him in the first place.”

He believes it.

“And then she yelled something like, ‘Well, then I better not see your face ever again!’ and ran out of the room. To this day, I haven’t seen her since.”

At some point in the conversation, Ging stopped smiling, but he doesn’t look _sad,_ per se. No, there’s nothing but glib apathy in his eyes, free from any self-doubt or damaged morale or even the simple stress of a troubled conscience. The silence between them is comfortable, and for a couple minutes, they sit together like two strangers do as they wait for a bus—mutually understood, nothing expected from each other. Gon then realizes that he’s probably making the exact same face.

“I’m glad you didn’t ask.”

Ging’s still not looking at him.

“About what?” Gon inquires.

“About if I had wanted you.”

That gives Gon a bit of pause, both perplexed and amused by the hypothetical question—because the whole thing was ridiculous. “It doesn’t matter whether or not you wanted me,” he says with a laugh in his voice. “I’m here, and that’s that.”

“Good answer,” Ging approves. “There’s no meaning innate to being born, anyhow. That’s something that people have to create for themselves.”

It makes sense, in a way.

“… So I guess there’s no God, huh?” he absentmindedly wonders to himself.

“Only if you want there to be one,” the man replies. “If you believe in it, then it’s real for you. That’s the power of humans.” He looks back down to the sky, smirking once more. “But you and I both know that there’ll never be anything you believe in more than yourself.”

What a strange sense of finality.

“Tch. Seems the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree; I’m the same way, after all,” Ging tells him. “There’s a fine line between nihilism and solipsism, but we walk it well enough.”

Gon’s not familiar with either term, but he knows exactly what Ging means.


End file.
